Human Nature
by LyricalMedley
Summary: A set of pensive emerald eyes darted to and fro as the deduction came to fruition. Mrs Hudson had been right all along. It really was the end. The end of an era.
1. Chapter 1

The wind whipped around his neck as he turned and stole one final glance at the reception hall. Sherlock stood in place and waited. His eyes surveyed the scene before him as it was obvious the reception would carry on with out him. A sigh escaped his lips as he realized no one had seen him exit the premises. All though that _was_ the detectives intention he had rather hoped one person in particular would've noticed his absence.

"Well.." Sherlock muttered to himself. "That's...that."

A slight chill suddenly engulfed Sherlock causing him to catch his breath. Pulling his coat around his lithely frame, he turned and begun his trek towards Baker street. With in moments Sherlock managed to hail a taxi and it didn't take long for Sherlock to realize that he was indeed very tired. But it wasn't just the feeling of being tired. With every breath Sherlock could feel his chest tightening along with his throat. His eyes seemed to hurt horribly.

Sherlock was jarred out of his musings as the taxi came to a stop. Glancing up Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief as the front door of 221B Baker Street welcomed him home. Quickly he paid the driver and made his way to the front door. For a moment, he stood and stared at the address. On one hand he knew John wouldn't be there to greet him. But something inside him began to break as he wished John would be there any way.

Raising his hand Sherlock reached out to open the door. It was then he realized his hand was trembling. For a moment he stood and stared at his hand. He tried stilling it but it was no use. He then opened the door and headed up to his flat. Upon entering, his breath caught again. He couldn't help but notice how big the room seemed to him. Out of sheer habit his gaze wondered over to the two chairs that adorned the sitting area. Sherlock felt his throat tighten as his eyes focused on the arm vacant arm chair opposite his. Suddenly he felt something drop on his cheek. Reaching up Sherlock put a hand to his face. Glancing at his hand he saw it was wet. Gingerly he placed his lips on the spot.

"Salt?" Sherlock stammered. "But that means..."

Shaking his head, he took of his coat, and threw it on the couch. Sherlock began to pace back and forth as he tried to deduce what his symptoms were, and more likely what their cause was. He had seen those same symptoms before, but where? What did they mean? Suddenly a thought struck him.

"The wedding!" Sherlock exclaimed.

Indeed the guests at the wedding had shown these same symptoms when he had given his speech. He thought he had ruined John and Mary's wedding by delivering the worse best man speech in history. But it hadn't been until John had stood and embraced him that Sherlock understood.


	2. Chapter 2

Mrs Hudson almost didn't see it when she arrived home that night. Once inside the front door, she did a double take at the coat hangers in the hall. She gasped as she saw a familiar looking tuxedo with all the amenities hanging neatly alongside it. Sighing heavily she quickly went into her flat and put her things away before heading upstairs. She had a nagging suspicion that even though Sherlock put forth an impenetrable facade of bravery, their conversation from earlier in the day had struck a deep chord.

"Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson asked.

A sudden snore caused her to jump. Placing her hand over her chest she glanced over to see Sherlock curled up on the couch. He had his back facing her, but Mrs Hudson could tell something wasn't quite right. Walking closer she glanced down and saw that Sherlock was indeed asleep. But his breathing was sporadic at best. His face twitched as the muscles in his arms tensed.

Gingerly Mrs Hudson placed her hands on his shoulder and shook him gently. He moaned as his whole frame seemed to grow taught. Suddenly he began to mumble incoherently. Mrs Hudson shook him again.

"Sherlock..." Mrs Hudson cooed. "Wake up dear..."

Sherlock gasped suddenly and shot upright. Mrs Hudson jarred backward slightly, but held firmly to Sherlock's arm. He continued to breathe quickly as he looked over towards the kind voice that had rescued him from what appeared to be a nightmare of sorts.

"Mmmrss...Hudso-" Sherlock stammered, scant of breath. "I'm so sorry I-"

"Easy now..." Mrs Hudson soothed, rubbing his arm gingerly.

Sherlock was trembling as he sought to catch his breath. The nightmare had been extensive. In the two years he had been presumed dead by all whom he held dear, he had endured much hardship. He had been captured a few times, and beaten on more then one occasion. But there was one memory that seemed to haunt the detective as he moved through the shadows. As Sherlock had hunted down and extinguished every web of Moriarty's the thought of Johns reaction to his death continued to add to his pain.

He never could shake the way Johns voice had slowed down to mere mumble when John had finally made it to him once he had fallen from the roof top. John hadn't known that Sherlock was alive yes, but it was that very reaction that shook the detective to his very core. And it was a myriad of everything that seemed to haunt Sherlock now.

"Night...mare..." Sherlock stammered.

"It's all right now dear..." Mrs Hudson soothed.

Sherlock looked over and locked his gaze on the kind eyes that now stood opposite him. Mrs Hudson reached over and gently hugged the trembling detective.

"How 'bout I make you some nice soothing tea?" Mrs Hudson asked gingerly.

"Sssoo tired-" Sherlock stammered, ebbing into the couch cushion.

"Rest now..." Came the reply.

Nodding slightly, he lay down and curled up as he rested his head atop the couch pillow. Mrs Hudson turned and took hold of Sherlock's coat. Gently she placed it over Sherlock, making sure to tuck it tightly.

"Tttthank...youu.." Sherlock sputtered, his voice wavering.

His throat was beginning to tighten again. As he saw Mrs Hudson look upon him kindly, his throat tightened even more. He felt his eyes began to pool with tears as he felt Mrs Hudson smooth his hair gently.

"It really is...the end-" Sherlock stammered, his voice hitching.

"Hush now.." Mrs Hudson interrupted.

"You were...rrrright.." Sherlock stated.

"Right about what dear?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"The end...of an era.." Sherlock rasped.

Mrs Hudson sighed, and knelt down in front of Sherlcok. She took his hand in her's and spoke.

"I wish I weren't..." Mrs Hudson answered kindly.

She stopped when she saw the detectives face start to crumble. Sherlock pulled his lips in as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What...is wrong...with me..." Sherlock asked, drying his eyes. "I don't understand."

"Nothing is the matter..." Mrs Hudson answered. "Rest now..."

Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes. Mrs Hudson didn't let on, but she was sure she saw a tear make it's way down the consulting detectives cheek as she left the flat and proceeded to her own abode.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a whole week. A week of bliss. John and Mary had thoroughly enjoyed their honeymoon. Save for the hitch of Mary's morning sickness returning, they had been able to bask in each others company.

But it was always at the back of his mind. Worry. Worrying came easy when it had to do with Sherlock. John had rather wished he could have caught him before he'd left the wedding reception. He had wanted to reassure Sherlock that nothing would change. Mary often caught him in mid-thought, and immediately knew what was preying on his mind.

John was more excited to be returning to London then he knew he should be. He wanted to see how everyone had got on, in the week since their departure. And one person in particular, he wanted to see more then the others. The moment the two stepped into their flat John breathed a sigh of relief. They were home. Life could begin to go forward like it had before.

It had been out of respect for Mary that he had turned off his cell phone during that week. It had been harder then he had thought to resist the temptation to listen to his messages. He then decided to give his phone to Mary for safe keeping. So when she handed him the phone, she looked to him and nodded.

"Go on then!" She encouraged, her eyes glinting excitedly.

The moment John pushed the button and began to listen to his voice mails, he felt his stomach fall to his feet. Mary had seen his completion pail and rushed to his side. Taking his arm, she ushered him to their couch. John sat down and groaned as he heard a distraught Mrs Hudson, followed by a second message from Lestrade.

_"John!? I'm so sorry to disturb you and Mary...But please...please... come by Baker's Street the moment you get a chance. Sherlock...he...he's"_

John leaned forward as Mrs Hudson's voice seemed to fade suddenly. He squinted as he tried to hear what was going on. Suddenly a strange sound ebbed forth. It was faint, but only just. John could suddenly hear two voices. Mrs Hudson was barely audible, but it was the second voice that sent a chill down John's spine. A deep baritone voice seemed to ebb forth in great distress. Suddenly John could hear Mrs Hudson speaking.

_"That isn't true and you know it..." _

_ "It most certainly is NOT the end Sherl-"_

John in-hailed as he heard Mrs Hudson scurry back to the phone. A deep sigh filtered through the earpiece as Mrs Hudson spoke. John winced as he heard the panic in her voice.

_"Please John...Just...hurry..."_

"John?" Mary asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

John shook his head as his phone pipped once. The second voice that filtered through was none other the Greg Lestrade himself. John jumped in his seat as he heard Lestrade clear his throat as the message began.

"Oh God..." John whimpered.

_"John!? Look... I know you're on holiday. But please... If there is any way...any way at all. Sherlock is...is.."_

The same baritone voice began to make it's presence known in the back round. John groaned apprehensively as he heard Sherlock start to speak in the back round. He could only just make out what Sherlock was saying. Mary's grip on Johns shoulder tightened as she saw his face pale suddenly. John started to breath heavily as he heard Sherlock plead with Lestrade.

_"Please Gram..."_

Sherlock exhaled loudly, and cleared his throat.

_"Greg... Hang up the phone!" _

There was a long pause. John held his breath as he waited for Greg's reply.

_"You wanna leave 'em the message then!?" _Greg shouted.

_"No! No!...Please...Greg...I don't want to...cause him.. any more pai-" _Sherlock pleaded.

Suddenly Greg turned and spoke directly into the phone.

_"John...He hasn't eaten a single thing since-"_


	4. Chapter 4

John jumped as the phone pipped again, ending the message suddenly. John let out a shaking breath as he realized Sherlock must have grabbed the phone from Greg.

"John...it's Sherlock is it?" Mary asked.

John whimpered as he nodded. Mary sighed and sat next to her husband. He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. He continued to breath heavily as he fought the sudden onslaught of anger.

"Breathe John...just-" Mary soothed.

"Am I not allowed to enjoyed my own honeymoon with _my wife_?" John

interrupted. "I just...I-"

"_Finally.._" Mary uttered. "It's about time..."

"Wait...What?" John exclaimed, dropping his hands.

John's eyebrow's furrowed as he looked to his wife. She clearly understood something he did not. She opened her mouth to speak, but then paused.

"Out with it.." John ordered.

Mary looked to the floor and shook her head.

"Please Mary.." John spoke, sighing heavily. "I didn't mean it _like that_..."

"I know...that Sherlock has a way of-" Mary started.

"Irritating me?-" John answered.

"John...?" Mary interrupted. "There was something Sherlock said on _that night_..."

"No!" John yelled. "We are NOT going there! Not to that night! Not the night I learned that my best friend really COULD sink lower then I ever thought possible!"

"John!" Mary pleaded.

John froze cold as he saw the tears brimming in Mary's eyes. He sighed heavily and took her hands in his. He nodded slowly, beckoning Mary to continue.

"All right Mary." John conceded. "What did Sherlock say...to you...on that night..?"

"He didn't understand..." Mary stated.

"That's new..." John quipped.

"He didn't understand why John..." Mary continued. "He didn't understand why you were so angry with him..."

"Two years Mary!" John yelled, standing suddenly.

Mary gasped at John's outburst. She watched as John began to pace back and forth.

"Two years...I spent trying to wrap my head around why...why he would...take...take his...life..." John rasped. "Two years of nightmares...of his cold body lying in a heap...his blood staining the pavement..."

"I asked him..." Mary stammered, swallowing hard. "I asked him if he knew anything about human nature..."

John stopped cold in his tracks and looked Mary straight in the eye.

"John...I think that those two years took more of a tole oh him then he let's on..." Mary spoke.

"A toll on _him_!?" John spoke. "So I suppose all the sheer desolation I went though meant absolutely nothing!"

"Haven't you noticed it John?" Mary asked, sniffing loudly.

"Noticed what...Mary?" John yelled.

"He has been fighting a war John..." Mary cried, her voice trembling. "Since the day he arrived and ruined your proposal, he has been at war with himself..."

"And how do you know that...?" John asked quietly.

"Because...Every time you're not looking..." Mary answered. "Sherlock let's his guard down."

John remained silent. Sighing heavily he reached over and embraced her. He rubbed her back soothingly.

"Because...I saw something that confirmed my suspicions." Mary confided.

John turned and looked to his wife.

"When." John asked.

"On the day of our wedding." Mary stammered. "John, I saw him as he left the reception..."

Mary's voice was trembling as she continued to speak.

"He just stood there while everyone danced around him." Mary spoke. "John...Sherlock was rightly unnerved.."

"Unnerved!?" John asked, his voice laced with panic.

"John..." Mary spoke. "He just left."

John nodded.

"If his 'best man' speech told us anything John. Anything at all..." Mary stated. "Would there have been any cause for worry if he'd said goodbye before departing?"

John gasped as he realized what his wife was saying. In all the years he'd known Sherlock, John suddenly realized that the Sherlock he knew now, was a completely different man then the one who had lept from that roof top two years prior.

"Oh God." John swore. "We need to...I need to..."

"Go, John." Marry soothed, sniffing.

"You all right then?" John asked, pulling his wife into a hug.

"Yeah, I'll be fine.." Mary answered. "It's like he said."

"Hmmm?" John asked, rubbing Mary's back.

"We've all ready had plenty of practice in rearing a surly adult child..." Mary quipped. "What's the harm in a bit more, eh?"

John snickered as he pulled away.

"Mary Watson?" John asked. "I love you"

"I know" Came the reply.


	5. Chapter 5

It felt like forever for the taxi to reach it's destination. John quickly whipped out his phone and sent a text to Lestrade.

"_On my way. - JW"_

_ "Hurry. - GL"_

John groaned as he received the reply almost immediately. John couldn't help the tremor that had returned to his left hand as the car pulled around a familiar bend. Glancing up he saw Baker Street with in his sights. The cab pulled over and came to a halt. Quickly John payed the driver and exited the cab. He didn't bother knocking and walked straight in. He was greeted by Lestrade.

"He's in a bad way John..." Greg spoke. "I don't know how much we'll be able to do for him..."

"He hasn't eaten?" John asked, his voice laced with worry.

Greg shook his head solemnly.

"He's been sleeping a lot..." Greg confided. "When ever he's awake...It's like he's just...not there...ya know?"

"He's shut down?" John asked.

Greg nodded.

"Well...I'd better go see what all the fuss is about shan't I?" John stated.

John turned and headed up the stairs. The moment he reached the door to his best friends flat, he paused in the door way. Taking a breath, John steeled himself for what would greet him. Gingerly he opened the door and peered around it's frame. His gaze fell on the solitary figure on the couch. Sherlock seemed to blend into the couch almost entirely. He had his back to John, and seemed to be sound asleep. John turned and closed the door behind himself and latched it quietly. But not quiet enough.

"Please..." Sherlock rasped.

John swallowed hard as he heard the weakness in Sherlock's voice. He had never heard him so quiet.

"Just...leave me..." Sherlock pleaded.

"Fat chance." John quipped.

John heard Sherlock in hail sharply. Suddenly Sherlock's whole frame began to shudder.

"Sherlock please..." John stammered. "Let me help."

John walked over to the couch and knelt down. He placed his hand atop Sherlock's shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"You shouldn't be here.." Sherlock stuttered. "Your wife...she..."

"She's fine Sherlock." John answered. "It's you, I'm worried about."

"You're...worried...?" Sherlock asked, gulping loudly.

Sherlock suddenly turned and sat up. He looked towards John. John gasped as he could see Sherlock's cheeks were hollowed out. His whole frame seemed to heave as he continued to shudder.

"Good God ..." John exclaimed. "You've clearly not been caring for yourself..."

Sherlock shrugged.

"Sherlock you have to eat!" John yelled.

Sherlock looked away. John held his breath as he saw tears forming in Sherlock's eyes. Suddenly Sherlock's shoulders began to shake. Sherlock pulled his knee's to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His face crumbled as he buried his head in the crook of his arm's. John grunted as he rose to a stand, and sat down beside Sherlock.

"Sherlock...What is it?" John asked, placing a hand on Sherlock's arm.

"I honestly...don't know..." Sherlock answered.

"Well you're obviously upset..." John stated.

"Upset!?" Sherlock shouted, looking up suddenly. "I'm most certainly _not _upset..."

"Yes Sherlock, yes you _are_!" John answered tersely.

"John...I have all the symptoms-" Sherlock sputtered.

"Mmmm...?" John hummed.

"John, I'm dying." Sherlock stammered.


	6. Chapter 6

John froze. He never expected those exact words to come from Sherlock of all people. He stared at his friend in disbelief. His chest began to feel tight as he looked over every feature of the hallowed out detective. His gaze stopped when it fell upon Sherlock's eyes. They held a heavy, warn hue about them. There was something behind those eyes. Something that was trying desperately to get out. Something Sherlock was holding back.

"Dying?" John asked hesitantly.

"Yes..." Sherlock rasped, nodding slowly.

"What symptoms, Sherlock?" John asked, leaning in.

John looked to his friend and gave him a pat on the shoulder. A single sob fell from Sherlock's lips as he summoned the strength to speak. Sherlock felt this throat tighten as he saw the genuine concern in his friends eyes.

"I...I..." Sherlock stammered, swallowing hard.

"Easy...easy.." John soothed. "Come on Sherlock..."

Sherlock smiled briefly, but it soon faded as he tried to formulate his thoughts. John sighed heavily as he saw Sherlock was having a difficult time. In all the years he had known Sherlock, he had never seen him so far removed from who he was.

"Where does it hurt...?" John asked.

"Everywhere..." Sherlock answered.

"You'll have to be more specific then that Sherlock." John stated.

"All around me John...All around..." Sherlock spoke. "No matter where I go, who I'm with... I can't stop it."

"Stop...what?" John asked.

"My chest and throat tighten, and my eyes won't stop leaking." Sherlock spat.

John gasped as he saw Sherlock's chin quiver. With in seconds Sherlock's whole frame was shuddering. Sherlock looked nervously from side to side, and then to John. The moment he saw John look at him, he rose. John rose with him and took hold of his arm. Sherlock shrugged John away immediately, and started pacing.

"I don't understand." Sherlock stammered.

"Well I do." John stated. "And you're not dying."

"Whah?" Sherlock answered, walking further from John.

"Sherlock?" John asked seriously.

Sherlock turned away, and didn't answer. John walked over and took hold of Sherlock's shoulder's. Gently he spun Sherlock around and faced him. Sherlock winced as he awaited John's reply.

"Sherlock, you're having a breakdown." John stated.

"A what!?" Sherlock answered.

"A mental breakdown..." John reiterated.

"No." Sherlock answered. "That's not possible."

"You asked." John replied.

"I did." Sherlock agreed. "But you're wrong."

"No...No I don't think so..." John retorted.

"_Wrong_!" Sherlock answered through clenched teeth.

"I deduce..." John stated smugly.

Sherlock froze. He glared at John, his eyes daring his best friend to try and _deduce_ the cause behind his current state of being.

"You panicked." John stated.

"Me? Panic-" Sherlock hissed.

"Shut up!" John interrupted.

Sherlock closed his mouth and allowed his friend to continue.

"You panicked when you jumped from the roof top all of two years ago. You thought that once you pulled off faking your own death, that you could carry on unaffected. But you were wrong. While you were away, everything you were, everything you are, started to fade away because of one thing. Guilt." John stated.


	7. Chapter 7

"Guilt?" Sherlock rasped, swallowing hard.

"Mmm, yeah guilt. Every day you were infiltrating Moriarty's web of crime the guilt ate away at you more and more. Every day was another lie added to the lie's you'd fed to everyone you cared about. And what's more, the moment you returned you attempted to pick up where you'd left off, but you couldn't." John continued.

"Stop it." Sherlock yelled, breathing heavily.

"Everything had changed, and you know why?" John stated.

"John, please..." Sherlock begged.

"We had no choice but to move on..." John stammered, his voice wavering. "And it only confirmed your worst fears. Life had gone on with out you. And that truly frightened you. To you core."

Sherlock began to wobble as he felt the room start to spin. John stopped and grabbed Sherlock by the shoulder's. He led his friend back to the couch and helped him sit down. Immediately Sherlock lay down across the couch. John knelt at his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You have no idea, how _hard_...it was...for me John." Sherlock sputtered, placing hand over his eyes. "Every day I was away, I was haunted by the same memory over and over and over."

Sherlock turned and stared straight at John. John gasped as Sherlock's whole face crumbled.

"It was all I could do to keep myself from not actually following through with the act John." Sherlock stammered, as tears pooled in his eyes.

"You mean you really did almost...ki..kill yourself?" John sputtered.

Sherlock nodded slowly.

"Every day added more guilt as I was only adding to your grief, all the while it brought me closer to being able to reveal myself." Sherlock stammered. "But it was necessary."

"Necessary!?" John yelled. "Where do you get off in thinking it was completely harmless to fake your death, and lie to your best frien-"

"Don't you dare!" Sherlock yelled, interrupting John.

John gasped as he saw Sherlock's face turn bright red. He froze as he waited for Sherlock to continue.

"Don't you dare think...for one second...that I didn't regret what I had done to you John!" Sherlock hissed through clenched teeth. "And it just kills me inside, to know that things will never be like they were before."

John remained silent as he averted his gaze away from Sherlock. For a long while John didn't blink.

"Yeah, it's getting a bit scary now.." Sherlock quipped.

John snorted suddenly, and covered his mouth with his hand. He looked over and saw Sherlock was smiling slightly. He dropped his hand and shook his head.

"Sherlock there was one thing I got wrong." John stated.

"Oh?" Sherlock asked, gulping out loud.

"I underestimated you on more then one level..." John stated.

"Oh here we go..." Sherlock mocked, rolling his eyes. "How many times to I have to apologize for dyin-"

"Yes, Sherlock you hurt me. You hurt me by dying, and you hurt me by betraying my trust..." John interrupted. "But I have failed you, my friend."

Sherlock's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I failed to take into account just how brave..." John uttered, but stopped short.

John closed his eye's and cleared his throat as he sought to gain his composure. Sniffing loudly, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Looking up he met Sherlock's gaze. Sherlock pulled his lips in as he held his breath. He really wasn't sure what John would say.

"The amount of inner strength it took to return, should have been the only tell tale sign of your true character." John stammered.

Sherlock's shoulder's began to shake as he heard the sincerity in John's voice. John gasped as he saw his friend being overcome by sorrow. John shifted nervously and rose to a stand. With one hand he pulled the coffee table closer, and took a seat facing Sherlock. Looking up, he gasped as he saw the look that donned Sherlock's face. Lips drawn in a line, arms crossed, it seemed as if Sherlock was on the edge.

"In short I have been oblivious to your courage, my friend." John stated. "And for that I am truly sorry."


	8. Chapter 8

The tears came freely as Sherlock heard John speak of him as his friend. Sherlock shook his head as the sadness seemed to overpower him.

"What is wrong with me...?" Sherlock whimpered.

"My, diagnoses...?" John stated.

Sherlock looked to John, anxiously awaiting his answer.

"You're heartsick." John uttered.

"Heartsick...? Sherlock asked.

John nodded.

"Heartsick!?" Sherlock boomed.

"Yes...?" John answered, furrowing his brow.

"But that's never..." Sherlock stammered. "That's never happened befo-"

"Sherlock?" John asked. "Listen to me."

Sherlock sighed heavily, and averted his gaze. John cleared his throat before continuing. When he spoke, his voice was trembling.

"You always try to hide it." John rasped. "All the hurt, the pain, the sorrow.."

Sherlock looked over and saw tears were streaming down John's face. Feeling his face pale considerably, Sherlock took in a shuddering breath. John leaned over and placed a hand atop Sherlock's shoulder and continued.

"I know you Sherlock." John spoke. "Utterly fearless, to the point of no return it seems."

"John...that's not-" Sherlock interjected, sitting up suddenly.

"Shut...up!" John interrupted.

Sherlock in-haled sharply as John began to breath fast. A sure sign that John was on the road to getting angry. Sherlock had learned since his return, that John was more then capable of taking his anger out on another human being when pushed too far.

"You..." John stammered. "You would rather see yourself succeed at solving a case before letting anyone close to you know that your are hurting."

Sherlock shrugged.

"I'm your best friend!" John yelled.

"I know!" Sherlock yelled, glaring at John. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I...I-"

Sherlock stopped as he felt tears threatening to spill over yet again. He looked away and groaned frustratedly. He stomped his foot as he felt the first tear fall.

"Maybe you 'what'?" John prompted.

Sherlock moaned as he felt his throat tightening. He stomped his foot again as his chest began to ache. With a mind all their own, Sherlock's hands made their way to his chest. He clung tightly to his chest in hopes that he could calm the pain.

"Sherlock?" John asked, alarm starting to settle in.

"I..don't know..." Sherlock spat.

"Yes you do.." John answered. "What is it that's troubling yo-"

"I don't know _how, _John." Sherlock rasped.

"How?" John asked, leaning in.

"How to..._confide_...I-" Sherlock stammered.

"Sherlock?" John asked. "I think you're wrong..."

"Wrong?" Sherlock questioned.

John nodded slowly. Sherlock blinked as he saw a sly grin make etch its way across Johns features. John sighed as he shrugged his shoulder's.

"I've never known you to have trouble putting words to your thoughts..." John stated. "In fact I've only ever had trouble with the very opposite."

"This is different, John..." Sherlock pleaded.

"No...I don't think it is" John answered, shaking his head.

"Yes it-" Sherlock stammered, stopping short.

John's deadpan stare stole the words from Sherlock. Sherlock tried to answer but found he could not. Sherlock sighed and averted his gaze.

"Cases are different John..." Sherlock spat. "They require the utmost focus and attention to detail."

Sherlock glanced over and saw John was still staring him down. Huffing angrily, Sherlock crossed his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, Sherlock could tell John hadn't blinked.

"What!?" Sherlock yelled, turning towards John.

John gestured towards Sherlock. Sherlock pointed at himself, and raised an eyebrow in question. John nodded emphatically and crossed his arms. Grunting angrily, Sherlock stood suddenly. He strode past John and began to pace back and forth, stomping his feet

"The are _not _the same-" Sherlock hissed.

"How can you _not _see this?" John asked, turning toward Sherlock.

"See what, John?" Sherlock boomed.

"You're a detective." John stated.

"So?" Sherlock mocked, rubbing his eyes.

John rose suddenly and walked quickly over to where Sherlock now paced. Reaching out he took hold of his dear friends shoulder's and stopped him in his tracks. Sherlock's breathing was ragged as he saw John's facade starting to waver.

"So you...focus." John spat. "And you _pay attention_ to _every detail_."


	9. Chapter 9

Sherlock took in a deep breath as he heard John's voice hitch as he spoke. John exhaled sharply and continued.

"And you deduce." John stammered.

"What's the _point_, John?" Sherlock stammered.

"What's the poi-" John answered. "Did you not hear what I just said?"

"Of course I heard you John!" Sherlock boomed.

Sherlock in-hailed the moment the phrase left his mouth. He wished he hadn't yelled, but he could feel his throat beginning to close and it was putting him on edge. His mind began to race back to the years he had been hunting down Moriarty. He had seemed to be forever doomed to spend his nights captured and alone with his thoughts. An this thoughts always circled back to the lie's he had accrued to get to where he was in his endeavor to find and extinguish Moriarty's web. But of all the lie's he had told, lying about his own death had been the hardest. Sherlock knew he had made the right choice, but in seeing John's reaction to his departure, it had pierced his soul in a way he never knew could exist.

As Sherlock spent his nights researching, traveling, observing the trail Moriarty had left behind, he began to experience something truly unnerving. It seemed that the more he found out about Moriarty, and the deeper he sank into the consulting criminal's web of deceit, his ability to repress his emotions slowly began to crumble. It was the nights in which he had been captured, and tortured that seemed to break his resolve further more. The physical pain seemed to distract him, but it never took long until his emotions found their way to the surface. Suddenly, a thought entered his mind as he continued to asses the various connections between physical and emotional pain.

John gasped as he saw Sherlock raise a trembling hand up to his head. Sherlock's whole posture seemed to change as the detective began to hunch over. Sherlock began to breath loudly as his mind began to process his latest deduction.

"Stupid,..." Sherlock hissed.

"Beg your pardon!?" John asked.

"Stupid, stupid..." Sherlock whispered.

"Stupid?" John prompted.

Sherlock turned and faced John. John met his gaze, and gasped as he saw the detective was on the brink of tears. Before he could say another word, John took Sherlock by the arm and led him back to the couch. Sherlock stood and stared at the couch.

"Sit." John ordered.

Sherlock sat, and immediately buried his head in his hands. His realization seemed to take hold of his mind quickly as he began to shudder. Sherlock tried to bury his realization for fear John would see it. A slight shift on the cushion next to him alerted the detective that John had sat next to him.

"What is it?" John asked, his voice wavering.

"Leave me John." Sherlock stammered.

"What?" John asked. "Why would I want to do-"

"Because!" Sherlock snapped, looking up suddenly.

John gulped out loud as he saw Sherlock trying to still his grief. Sherlock looked away as the sobs seemed to take over his entire frame. John placed a hand atop Sherlock's shoulder and held it there. He didn't move it when Sherlock flinched.

"John...please.." Sherlock spat. "I don't want...you seeing me like this."

"You..." John stammered. "Shouldn't be alone right now."

"Pain." Sherlock hissed.

"You're...in pain!?" John boomed.

Suddenly, John took Sherlock by the shoulder's and forced him to meet his gaze. It took a few seconds, but once he held the detectives attention he asked the question again.

"You're..._in pain_!?" John asked.

"No John..." Sherlock stuttered.

"I don't understa-" John answered.

"Naturally." Sherlock scoffed.

"Then _help me understand_!" John yelled.

"John..." Sherlock stammered. "You're not going to like it."

"Try. Me." John deadpanned.


	10. Chapter 10

Sherlock cleared his throat nervously. Sniffing loudly, he began.

"John...A lot happened in the two years I was dea...I was away... The pieces of the puzzle began to fit together quickly as I found more and more of Moriarty's web. Most times I would be lucky enough to find and extinguish the threat with out getting caught. But a lot of my time was spent being held captive. And it was on an evening that occurred a little over a year ago that I found myself captured...again." Sherlock stated.

He paused and looked to John. John nodded and motioned for him to proceed.

"John...I was brutally beaten that night... They beat me, and threw me in a cell to lick my wounds. If it wasn't for the dim light from the outside torch I would've never known it was my blood that I'd spent the night coughing up. It became a daily ritual. Take the prisoner, beat him, and repeat the process the next day."

John shifted uncomfortably as he heard Sherlock's voice. His friend was right. He didn't like this story one bit. Sherlock paused and looked to John. John sighed heavily, and rubbed his eyes.

"Go on." John uttered weakly.

"I'm no doctor John, but I knew my injuries weren't healing properly. The pain was excruciating. The pain began to change me. It was a distraction for a while...But it wasn't long until I began to hallucinate. At one point I carried on a conversation with you in my cell, about how many counts your blog had received. Somehow I managed to deduce that it was all in my head." Sherlock spoke.

"Post traumatic stress dissor-" John retored.

"That's what I thought too, but..." Sherlock interupted.

"So you DON'T think it was PTSD!?" John asked.

"I didn't then..." Sherlock stammered, looking to the floor.

"Ah...But you think you do _now_?" John asked quietly.

Sherlock's shoulder's began to shudder as an onslaught of emotions took over. He turned and buried his head in his hands as he tried to stifle his lamentations. John placed an arm around the broad shoulder's of his friend and held tightly.

"In case you forgot..." John quipped. "You are...in good company"

Sherlock's whole frame continued to shudder as he heard the kindness in John's voice. He'd nearly forgotten that this was right where John was at when he had first met him.

"Easy now..." John soothed. "You're safe now."

"What's wrong with me John?" Sherlock asked, scant of breath.

"Well something triggered your PTSD Sherlock and-" John answered.

"The wedding!" Sherlock interrupted suddenly.

"Excuse me!?" John yelled.

"No John, not like that." Sherlock answered. "I finally understand now!"

"Then. Help. Me. Understand." John hissed.

"John, those nights...that I was held captive, and beaten..." Sherlock began. "My mind was beginning to tie physical pain with emotional pain. So naturally every time I was beaten, my regrets would resurface."

"So just where does _my wedding_ fit into all of this?" John asked.

Sherlock swallowed hard, and tried to steel his courage. He could already feel his chest starting to ache like it had on that night. He could feel his arms beginning to twitch apprehensively.

"That night..." Sherlock stammred. "My mind did something I wasn't expecting. As I saw you and Mary dancing, and then in turn saw everyone else in their own little word...I was struck with a sudden...pang...A familiar pang of...of lonli-"

Sherlock's voice caught as he spoke. John sighed as he began to have a feeling he knew where this was heading.

"Sherlock, you should have said someth-" John interjected.

"How could I John!?" Sherlock boomed. "It was YOUR WEDDING DAY."

"Even still-" John answered.

"Did it ever occur to you, that seeing you move on with your life on that day, was yet another reminder to me of the poor choices I'd made?" Sherlock hissed.

"You didn't say goodbye Sherlock." John said.


	11. Chapter 11

"Stupid...Stupid, stupid..." Sherlock hissed.

"So you panicked." John stated. "Big deal."

Sherlock glared at John.

"I. Never. Panic." Sherlock uttered, his voice trembling.

"Yeah...ya do." John answered. "Your emotions started to surface, so _naturally_ you went into full blown panic mode because your body knew physical pain wouldn't be far behind."

"How would you know what _I went through_ during those two years-" Sherlock began.

John's deadpan stare cut him off. Sherlock began to inwardly chide himself as he realized he had momentarily forgotten the full extent of John's military discharge. Admitting defeat, Sherlock sighed heavily and buried his head in his hands.

"I'm not as _strong_ as you are John...I-" Sherlock mumbled.

"I am _not strong_ Sherlock." John answered. "I shudder to think of where I would be right now if I'd never met you."

"John, please...I don't..I can't-" Sherlock stammered.

"You saved me from my misery" John interrupted. "And now, it's my turn Sherlock. So please. Just once, will you let another human being help you?"

"John...please..just leave." Sherlock pleaded.

"Not on your life!" John quipped.

John paused and waited for the laughter to ensue. But the reaction he received from the distraught detective was far from what he had pictured. The detective's shoulder's began to shudder, and it wasn't long before Sherlock's whole frame was trembling.

"Sherlock?" John asked worriedly.

John tried to pull Sherlock's hands away, but found he could not. Suddenly, the faint sound of labored breathing began to emanate from the man sitting beside him.

"Sherlock!?" John yelled. "All right...just stay calm..."

"Ccc...calm?" Sherlock stuttered, looking up.

John gasped as he saw Sherlock's face had paled considerably. He noted that Sherlock's whole frame was slowly starting to tense. Suddenly Sherlock inhaled and looked away. John winced as he heard Sherlock whimper.

"Are you in pain...?" John asked.

John blinked when he thought he saw Sherlock nod. A low moan escaped the detectives mouth as he began to rock back and forth. John sighed heavily as the clear signs of a panic attack came to fruition.

"You were involved in nearly every minute detail of our wedding." John stated. "How could you have possibly felt-"

"A sea...of...faces.." Sherlock sputtered.

"A sea of-" John stated. "What are you on about?"

Sherlock dropped his hands, and faced John. The weary detectives whole frame seemed to freeze in an instant.

"John..." Sherlock stated. "I tried to stay, afterwords..."

"At the dance?" John asked.

Sherlock nodded.

"And like an idiot, I-" Sherlock stammered.

John sighed heavily.

"I actually _thought_, that for a second...I could be just like everybody else." Sherlock stuttered. "But the moment the music started, it was as if I'd vanished."

"Sherlo-" John interjected.

"John, up until now I had thought that day I jumped off of Barts rooftop was the scariest day of my life." Sherlock interrupted. "But your wedding..."

"Yeah, thanks...?" John murmured.

"Truly, John." Sherlock stammered, his chin quivering.

Sherlock looked away as tears began to pool in his eyes. He heard John sigh heavily before feeling the Doctor place a hand on his shoulder. Sherlock gasped and met John's gaze.

"Go on.." John prompted.

"It's the _end_." Sherlock hissed. "Now get out!"

"The end?" John questioned, furrowing his brow.

"I let myself get involved, got too close, burned too many bridges, and now the _end of an era_ has come to pass, and I've lost the only friend I've ever had." Sherlock boomed.

"You haven't _lost_ anything Sherlock!" John yelled.

"Yes, I'm very sure that I-" Sherlock retorted.

"I'm. Still. Here." John hissed.


	12. Chapter 12

"But if I hadn't lied in the first place, everything would still-" Sherlock stammred.

"Sherlock..." John pleaded. "Look at me..."

John froze as he saw the detectives shoulder's began to shudder. He saw a slight shake of the head, and immediately knew Sherlock was trying to hide his grief. Gingerly, he placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. The moment he felt John's hand on his shoulder, the detective pulled away.

"You came back, Sherlock " John stated. "And that's all that matters."

Sherlock gasped the moment he heard John speak. He turned sharply and faced the man sitting beside him. He saw John's eyes grow wide with concern, as it was obvious the doctor could see the sadness he had been trying to hide.

"But I _hurt you _John..." Sherlock stated, his voice wavering. "All evidence to the contrary is-"

"You are _still hurting me_ Sherlock." John interrupted. "The more you carry on like this, you will eventually drive me away for good."

Sherlock's mouth clamped shut as the words began to sink in. He could not still his trembling lip as his gaze fell down to the floor. He heard a heavy sigh fall from the man opposite him.

"But you're _married now_, John. You no longer have need of me." Sherlock whispered.

"I may be married Sherlock, but I will never stop needing my..my _best friend_." John stated emphatically. "_Ever_."

Sherlock felt his chest tighten as he heard John emphasize the later part of his phrase. He couldn't help the tears that fell as he buried his head in his hands. With in seconds he felt the strong arms of his best friend wrap around him. Moments passed before John gave a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"All right maté?" John asked.

A slight nod met his inquiry. Moments staggered onward as Sherlock seemed to stare off into nothingness. Realizing that Sherlock seemed to have frozen in a state of emotion again John gasped as a question came to fruition with in his mind.

"Where you really going to stay and...dance?" John asked suddenly.

Sherlock's mind began to pick up on the sarcastic tone John was conveying. Sherlock looked up and stared at John. The detective held his gaze as he dared his friend to make a deduction on his own. John's mouth fell open as he saw Sherlock was serious. But as the doctor studied the man sitting opposite him, he began to see a small smile etch it's way upon the detectives face. With a tell tale glint in his eyes, Sherlock gave John his answer.

"Well, I couldn't just let those dance lessons to to waste now could I? "


End file.
